Latch
by sweetlostsoul
Summary: Currently a one-shot. If interested in a continuation, let me know and I'll figure something out. SS/HG: In a tired society where the recovery from the war is not what was expected, Hermione seeks to be untouchable so that she no longer has to attend the Quarters. Snape uses the Quarters as an excuse to get Hermione. Both get what they want.


**Latch**

Pairing: SS/HG

Rating: M

Note: Story takes place after the war in a Ministry controlled society. Caution! Many characters are not present and assumed dead (sorry…). Finally, let me know if I should continue or keep this as a one-shot. Thanks readers and reviewers.

Note2: I've made a few changes so that I could add more to the tale. I hope that it does not fall short!

* * *

Hermione stood in line with a number of other witches, all awaiting the results of their testing. Glancing at the reformed Ministry logo in the crowded room, Hermione thought back to what led to her twenty three year old self standing here for the first time. It was after Harry's death during the duel that ended Voldemort. The inconclusive ending of the battle left the two weakened sides of the war at a disadvantage. While the focus of the two parties had been to end the fear, hatred and destruction, a group of wizards and witches swiftly took over the political part of their community as a means of rebuilding. No one had the energy or ability to deny them. Strangely enough, the promise of peace, order and functionality was appealing in its own way. A dictatorial-like regime quickly took control and imposed new rules and regulations for the birth of the new community. As a result, now four years since the death of the two icons, the common witches and wizards had managed to live a life of servitude- a loss of self in exchange for practicality. It had been two years since that day.

Hermione moved ahead as each witch left solemnly, no one at liberty to discuss their results. Hermione's expression also remained passive, never betraying the vague desperation of hope. Once she reached her result, brief warmth embraced her before vanishing and leaving her cold once again. Clutching her hands to her side, she stiffly moved past the others and made her way out. She did it. She passed the test. As of today, she was an Untouchable, and accomplished citizen, a witch of duty. She was pregnant.

* * *

Hermione remembered her first experience at the Quarters as one of disgust, betrayal and fear. It had been the first time she saw someone with whom she shared a common past since the new Ministry took power. Severus was the same as he had always been, with an ever so slight aging in his features. He stood tall and intimidating in his crisp black robes with his black hair pulled back, exposing the white at his temple. She felt ill-at-ease at the idea that he had selected her; a wizard who was older than her, her former professor, a known death eater and an undiscovered spy. Hermione remembered how he presented her with Absconditus Anima, the potion he alone could provide her if she were to accept his visits. Once she would take it, her body would become numb; she would feel no pain or pleasure, she would feel and think nothing at all. She would feel safe. Safe. What a term these days. That was all everyone wanted; safety from fear, harm, out casting, revenge, feelings, memories, and the unknown.

While he was a complex being, she soon realized that things were simple when it came to the matter at hand. They spoke very little, performed their duty and parted ways. She did not want to victimize the two of them as the result of unforeseen circumstances, no. They were both adults who had made their choice to go along with the perverted practice and accepted each other. Hermione was wary of Severus and his need to monopolize her but the potion was enough for her to accept it. She never questioned him and the two never took their relation outside the assigned room. But this was no relationship- there was nothing human about it.

* * *

Snape received her letter and sighed; it was over. Looking after the owl that had already vanished in the distance, the wizard closed his lab's window and turned to the half-done potion that she no longer needed from him. Vanishing the contents of the cauldron with a quick motion of his hand, Snape walked out and stopped at the door. She was an Untouchable now, but he still wanted her. Placing a cool hand on the bridge of his nose, he tried to keep himself calm. The memory of her forced him to face his own perverse feelings- but he reminded himself that this was not a relationship between lovers, they were conducting their duty to their community. Having her for him alone was a juvenile notion that he deluded himself with. He could assume that multiple partners would be a hassle for him to handle or that he was saving the girl from having to partner with less than desirable options or even that the potion was an exchange for simplicity. In reality, he wanted her and her alone.

Thinking back to the soft skin of her abdomen, the glazed brown eyes and the sharp edges of her thin body, Snape wondered if he could rely simply on his mind's images. Could he accept that she no longer required anything from him? Stalking to his room, he shut his door, although there was no reason to, and sat on his bed. He was a man for Merlin sake and could not help the sudden breathlessness he felt at the thought of taking the witch. He could have any available witch at any time, and yet he had focused entirely on her, only her. Placing a hand on the growing bulge on his black pants, Snape began rubbing himself while immersed in the thought of his former student. After she had accepted to take the potion, Snape had relished in the experience. She did not realize that after taking the draught, she became tantalizingly inviting to him. Her expression was filled with desire, her body would respond readily to him and she had a tendency to pant his name- over and over.

Snape freed his throbbing member and continued to lovingly care for it. He thought of her lips, the curve of her neck, the shaking hands that held onto him, her quick gasps as he filled her only to slip out and fill her again. He remembered her soft skin, her angular hips, her locked ankles digging into his lower back, and her soaked curls; all for him to enjoy. All for him to have. Rubbing his shaft quickly at the few memories of her clamping around him, ecstasy filled his mind as he splattered on his hand, pant leg and bedroom floor. He had impregnated her. She was carrying his child. Merlin, he wanted more.

* * *

Love,

Amy


End file.
